Someday
by Written Fire
Summary: During a meeting, Canada reflects on his life. First Hetalia fanfiction; I hope you like!


_Hi! So, I have decided to branch out of Harry Potter and venture into a new land! I have read so many Hetalia stories and love the show and have decided that I wanted to try and write one of my own :)_

_I will still write Harry Potter but now I am going to be writing for two different fandoms. It's pretty exciting for me. x)  
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_I **really **hope you enjoy this, and there will be another soon!  
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Sometimes Canada feels like he might as well just not go to any of the meetings. What's the point in going if no one ever notices him? Even his own brother never notices he is there, and they used to be so close when they were younger. During those long breaks that Arthur was gone, he was the one who cared for America. He was the one who fed him, kept him out of trouble, and managed to keep a smile on his face. He loved him unconditionally and always, _always_, was there for him.

How could he forget that?

Looking at him now, he doesn't even recognize him anymore. America changed when he got his independence. It wasn't an elaborate change, for his brother had always been the happy, oblivious person that he is. But it seemed that the older he grew, the more naive he became. One would think it would be the opposite, but then again, this was America. He defies all expectations.

Canada sighed, looking away from his brother, his gaze moving to his former care taker. England. He never seemed to go anywhere without that frown upon his face. The only time Canada could remember ever seeing England truly smile, the sort of smile that was in the person's eyes, too, was at America. America used to run to him, jumping on him before he had time to get his land legs back when they were children. As soon as he was in England's arms, you could see in instant change in the Brit. His body would relax and that smile would alight his face, clearing away that formidable scowl. Canada hasn't seen that smile in a while, not since his brother broke free.

Looking away before he got caught staring-not that England would even realize that it was him staring-Canada directed his gaze to his other once upon a time caregiver. France had never been the most responsible, but Canada had figured that with the way he used to dote on him that he would at least notice him. It never happened, though, not even when he would speak French right next to him to try and capture his attention.

It hurt.

Having your family, the ones you love, not notice you hurt so badly that sometimes Canada just felt like ending it. It's not like his family care, or even notice that he was no longer around. But if he did that, then who would lead his country? What would _happen_ to his country? It was the thought of his beloved citizens getting hurt or ruled by another who was cruel that stopped him. He knew that others wouldn't care for them the same, that others wouldn't have their best interests at heart.

Canada looked back down to his notepad, a slight frown furrowing his brow. This was one of the reasons that he felt he might as well not come. Being here, in the same room as the ones who had abandoned him, never failed to bring him low. No progress was ever made, anyway, and most everyone never paid the slightest attention. Sighing again Canada clicked the top of his favorite pen, enjoying the noise it made as he watched the point poke through. He poised his hand in the perfection position to write, and looked up expectantly to where he knew Germany stood to continue writing his notes.

No one was there.

Canada slowly blinked, looking around the room to see nothing but empty chairs. It turned out that during his musings everyone had left, and somehow he had not even heard all of the noise of them scrambling for freedom. Clicking the top of his pen again Canada packed up, holding his polar bear, Kumajiro, close to him with one arm while he grabbed his bag. Standing he made his way to the door stepping around the McDonald's wrappers his brother had managed to leave behind. Once he opened the door, he spared one last glance to the empty room behind him.

Trash littered the table, and half empty bottles were deposited at random along chairs. Most were shoved away from the table, and some were pushed back in. One had somehow made its way onto the table, in the spot where he thought Italy had sat that day. Shaking his head and sighing once again, Canada turned his back to the lonely room and headed to the front, his steps echoing in the hall.

_Someday_, he thought, _someday I won't be left behind. I'll be noticed. One day, my family will remember who I am, and the world will take notice of me._ And with that thought in mind Canada straightened from his slight crouch, standing tall as he left the building with a new, optimistic feeling running through him. Squinting his eyes at the sudden searing light, Canada smiled.

_Someday. _

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_Well, I hope that you enjoyed this!  
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_I hope that I did Canada justice; I love him on the show.  
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_Reviews would most definitely be appreciated!  
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